Father, Husband, Friend
by Scylla and Charybdis
Summary: It all started with Elysia protesting /not/ celebrating, even though it was sad. They'd invited "Uncle Roy", and "Aunt Riza", and even Alphonse Elric, before the brothers had decided to stay in Risembool. Post manga, some spoilers, rated for situation.


THIS FICTION IS MANGAVERSE. THIS MEANS ED AND/OR AL ARE NOT STUCK IN AN INESCAPABLE DIMENSION, AND SIMPLY LIVE IN RISEMBOOL. IT ALSO CONTAINS SOME SPOILERS FOR THE ENDING OF THE MANGA. (P.S. Ed has his arm back, and Al has his body back)

Don't blame me if you don't understand it.

Oh. My. God. I cried while writing this. I swear.

**Father, Husband, Friend**

Gracia Hughes sighed and pulled on her long overcoat. It was worth it, sure, but it always brought back the worst memories. They had started the tradition five years ago, just after… well… when Elysia had protested not celebrating, even if it was very sad. They'd invited "Uncle Roy", and "Aunt Riza", and even Alphonse Elric, before the brothers had decided to stay in Risembool with Winry, who was getting larger by the day, and apparently wreaking havoc upon their little house. Alphonse had said over a phone call– the background noise of which was various screams and crashes– that Edward had gotten twitchy-er and twitchy-er over the past eight months, and slightly paranoid about the whole business.

"Elysia, it's almost time to go! Come downstairs, please!" she called upstairs, waiting to hear the thunk of adorable feet on the stairs.

That was another thing. Elysia, now eight, had grown so much. Her husband would have been taking pictures left and right, all the while squealing at how cute she was. Gracia still called Roy every few weeks and exclaimed at how cute the little girl was, and that he should really consider– (insert slammed phone here). Almost everyone at the base had placed bets on "when Roy sees how cute a newborn is", as in, sometime next month.

Elysia bounced down the stairs. "I'm ready, Mom," she said with a sweet smile.

"Ah… where's your coat?" she asked, pulling it out of the closet and buttoning it up snugly. "There. Do we have the box?"

"Uh-huh!"

They walked out the door, hand in hand, and Gracia couldn't help but smile. Her little girl, so strong, so brave, growing up too fast, would still let her hold her hand, and let her be reminded of when she held her entire body. Elysia was so… lovable, and Gracia was glad that she still remembered her father, even five years later, and her being so young….

She understood that soldiers fell. Some thought she should understand better than most, seeing the manner in which her military husband had died. _He wasn't a soldier, though_, she rationalized. _He was only in MI, and he was there to push Roy to the top_. It didn't matter that Envy had murdered him in the shape of herself, didn't matter that Roy had almost killed the homunculus, didn't matter that Edward still blamed himself, partially, for the death. He was dead, and that was that. No blame assigned, except to his killer.

Gracia sighed and shifted the box a little higher on her hip, still thinking, still reminiscing (mostly of the infamous Flame vs. Fullmetal duel, and how Maes had announced their daughter's third birthday with a giant blow-up picture of her with a teddy bear). It was a tradition almost as sacred that they wouldn't talk on this walk, simply think and remember.

They reached the gates, and Gracia could vaguely see the silhouette of a tall, dark haired man, with a blonde at his right elbow.

After the funeral had ended, Roy had stood there with his subordinate, pretending it was raining. She had pretended, too, if only for a little while, before going to comfort Elysia. It was strange that the eight-year-old, though traumatized when told that Daddy was never coming back, was the happiest of all of them today.

They approached the marker, greeting Roy and Riza quietly before settling to their own thoughts again.

Gracia was reminded of a song her mother sang while sitting quietly next to the hearth after a long day of cleaning or cooking. She started humming, softly, and was a bit surprised when Roy started humming along. Then Elysia picked up the tune, and Riza listened for a moment before her eyes sparked in recognition and she started to hum as well.

The last notes died away, and the squeal of the gate was audible from the edge of the cemetery. Gracia saw a flash of golden hair, and smiled.

"Come on, you can do it. It's only a little further," Ed encouraged as he pulled an out-of-breath, eight months pregnant Winry up the hill. Alphonse followed behind him, discreetly taking his girlfriend, Mei's, hand and leading her towards the grave. "Sorry we're late," Edward panted. "Do we still get cake?"

Gracia had to laugh, a bit, at that, and replied with an "Of course."

She opened the box she had carried from the house, and flattened it onto the grass.

Elysia handed her the knife, carefully wrapped in paper towels and plastic to avoid cutting anyone.

She cut the cake into twelve pieces, and placed nine slices on nine plates (Elysia had them, too).

Gracia Hughes set one plate in front of each person, waiting until her daughter lit the candle in the last piece to begin singing, carefully enunciating every syllable.

When the song was done, her little girl, still reminding her of that third birthday party, leaned forward and blew out the candle. Gracia could hear her whisper, softly, "Happy birthday, Daddy."


End file.
